


All For You

by ScriptrixDraconum



Series: Steel and Roses [16]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Love, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Tent Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptrixDraconum/pseuds/ScriptrixDraconum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esmé Cousland and Alistair make love in her tent, and unlike their first time together, they can take things as slow as they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All For You

“Stay with me, tonight?” I asked, pleading. I knew that even if Alistair wasn’t ready for sex, I needed him with me. I needed him with me, always. I moaned when his mouth sucked at the flesh above my collarbone.

And then, as he recentered himself above me, his ardent kiss was his reply.

Urgency. That’s what Alistair was feeling as he ground his hips against mine. His desperation was intoxicating, and I nearly lost myself in the moment. I grasped the man’s wrists before he tore off my smallclothes.

“Slowly, Alistair,” I purred, and pulled his hands from my body.

He chuckled and admitted, “I don’t really know what I’m doing,” but continued a slow grind against my center.

“Not even from overhearing the sexual exploits of other wardens? Or Leliana? Zevran?” I asked, grinning.

Alistair blushed and shook his head, returning my grin. “No. I mean, I know some things, but…. No.”

Chuckling, I guided one of his hands in a downward arc to our hips, planting it on the brim of my loincloth. Alistair got the message, and adjusted his body to make room for explorative fingers, which immediately pressed against my heat. I gasped. His lips trailed kisses from my chin to my ear, down the side of my neck, the length of my collarbone, and lower. His body moved at the discretion of his mouth, though his hand remained between my legs, still pressing flatly, unsure. His lips traveled to my right, kissing the fabric that still covered my breasts. His trail continued – abdomen, ribs, hip, and around again to my left, finishing the circuit. He moved slowly, as requested, though I found myself desiring his early intensity that I had curbed.

With ragged breath, I whispered, “You’re doing well… for someone who claims to be clueless.”

Alistair didn’t answer. Kisses were joined by tentative nibbles, and a brave finger dared to trace the outline of fabric cloaking my sex. His other hand had since joined with my own, our fingers laced. My free hand had been enjoying the feel of his upper body, of muscles flexing and relaxing. I smoothed my palm lower, but was unable to reach what I desired. I settled for holding his bicep, in the end, as I waited for Alistair to indulge his curiosity.

Encouraged, Alistair tentatively slid his hand under my loincloth, exhaling sharply after his fingers curved downward. My hips tilted, pressing my sex against his palm. As his concentration lay elsewhere, his mouth remained at the crook of my neck, breathing hot air against the flesh. His palm remained still but for a single finger that dipped inward. The fingertip pressed too high, and my body tensed with the anticipatory hope of Alistair exploring further.

A sudden descent of his hand caused the fingertip to slide lower, brushing sensitive flesh and finding a home inside of me. Alistair and I shared a gasping moan. My breath quickened. His hand stilled for a moment as his mouth sought mine. I moaned again against his lips, and his finger traveled further inward. He pulled his hand back, slightly, and with another finger joining, reentered me. His hand thrust back and forth, slow and steady.

Alistair groaned against my mouth, and our lips parted. “It hurts,” he breathed.

Confused, I caught his gaze. Strain and worry creased his brow. “What hurts?” I asked, concerned.

He removed his hand from my sex and sat up as much as he could in my tent. Though the light from my lantern was dim, I could see clearly the strained lines of fabric surrounding the bulge of his leggings. I exhaled a single laugh, and reached forward as he reached down. We both worked at the lacings, though their tension proved a hindrance in their loosening. Knot finally undone, Alistair pulled the fabric down and sighed with relief. The loincloth underneath was more uneasily slackened, and he spared no time in removing it.

Alistair was kneeling before me, and I was propped up on an elbow, facing him. Once fully disrobed, Alistair’s erection stood directly before me, demanding attention. Though I had already seen Alistair nude before, fully aroused, and even though he and I had already had sex, I had not yet taken the time to appreciate his body in full. I wished for stronger lighting.

Fully erect, Alistair’s size was substantial. Having seen him nude before unaroused, I knew that the girth and length of his shaft grew considerably. His length had a slight downward curve to his left, and was thick – very thick.

Not wanting to ogle further the display of manhood, I lifted my eyes to his face. With one hand, I reached up toward his chest, and with the other, gently wrapped fingers around his cock. Alistair tensed. His torso muscles clenched. With curved fingers, my hand pulled away from him along his shaft, letting the foreskin caress the head, and then slid back again, repeating, slowly. Alistair whimpered, and his hands found a breast and a shoulder, respectively. His eyes were dark with desire. As we held each other’s gaze, I stretched toward him, eager, and pulled the head of his cock into my mouth.

With a moan Alistair’s head tilted back, and his hand on my shoulder drifted to my neck. I turned my body fully towards him, resting my weight on my arm. My free hand drifted lower, and my hand joined my mouth in pleasuring the man before me. I extended my other arm out from beneath my side, and carefully grasped the man’s bulge. He whined through a louder moan, and with fingers weaved through my hair, anchored me to him. He whispered my name. Again. I glanced up, admiring the sight of him. The rippled muscles of his abdomen constricted in pulses. His chin was raised high. He whined again. His grip on my hair tightened.  

“Esmé,” he repeated, voice low and soft. “Esmé. Esmé. Esmé….”

My mouth tightened around his girth, and along with my hand, quickened in pace. My hand below pulled down, harder, and strengthened its grip.

I wanted to hear him come again, to moan my name loudly as he shuddered against my touch, this time fully willing, both of us in the right state of mind. I loved him. He loved me. This thought alone sent a warmth through me and I mewled, humming against his cock.

At once, he was there. Breath quavering and body stiffened, he thrust into my mouth as I dove forward. Grunts and cries accompanied his release, invigorated at first but quick to calm. I loosened my grip on him, and he on me. I slowed my movements. Alistair sighed, and I backed away from him, laying back.

I reclaimed my hands briefly, though one soon reached out to his thigh, caressing the curve of muscle. Alistair jutted his legs out from under him and collapsed beside me, still breathing hard. I smiled, and massaged my jaw muscles.

“What happened to the, um…,” he began, and then cleared his throat. “You know….”

Not quite sure what he meant, looked to my side, toward him. “What happened to what?”

He turned to me, mouth open and chest rising and falling deeply. He chuckled, and flipped onto his side, facing me. Reaching out, he wiped something from my chin. “Heh, nevermind.”  Leaning forward, he held my cheek against his palm, and kissed me.

“Mph,” he exclaimed quietly. He ended the kiss and looked away, a quizzical look about him as he licked his lips. “Interesting flavor.”

“Oh, Alistair,” I laughed, play-smacking his chest.

He grinned and kissed me again, and rolled me over onto my back. He pulled back slightly. Still grinning, he announced, “My turn.”

With greater zeal than before, he slid down the length of my body, gripped the sides of my loincloth, and pulled. Determined, he quickly untucked the garment and slid it out from under me. Placing palms on my shins, his hands drifted up, brushing against the soft down of my legs. As his hands pushed against my inner thighs, I complied, anxious and welcoming his touch. Without delay, he slinked forward and pressed his mouth to my sex. My breath caught when a tongue prodded and searched curiously for that one spot which had me crying out just moments ago. Alistair moaned quiet sounds of satisfaction as his tongue dipped into me, tasting. Tiny caresses traveled up, and my body convulsed at the sensation of his tongue flicking against the sensitive node. Understanding my reaction, Alistair concentrated his tongue in this spot, and with several fingers, entered the slickness he had caused. His free hand pushed against my lower abdomen, exposing more of myself to him. As fingers slid slowly in and out, his tongue teased. My hands, not sure where else to be, clenched my covered breasts. More pressure filled me, and Alistair shifted his tongue’s caresses to flattened, wide strokes. His pace altered frequently from fast to slow, pausing occasionally to suck at taught flesh.

He removed his fingers from within me and, using both hands, spread open the folds of my sex. His tongue recommenced its movements, this time firm, deliberate. My body quivered, and hips ground against Alistair’s face. His tongue remained focused, unrelenting. Flickering, fluttering. Slowed and smooth. My back arched, and I lost control of my reactions. Cries mirrored sensations. Alistair persisted. His tongue pressed harder and moved fast again.

My body bucked and thighs squeezed against the sides of his head. My hands clenched, crushing my breasts. I was wailing; it couldn’t be helped. My release continued as Alistair held on firm, arms now wrapped around my upper thighs and face buried at my core. I screamed his name. I screamed for the Maker.

Even after my release subsided, Alistair continued. I reached down and gently pushed at his crown. He pulled back, revealing a glistening face. I laughed through my panting, and he grinned. As he climbed back over me, he brushed his face against my skin, wiping himself dry. Without warning, he kissed me, sharing my taste with me as I had him, his.

I felt rhythmic fumbling below. Alistair was stroking himself, readying for more.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, only pausing our kiss long enough to insist, “You know what you’re doing.” I reclaimed his mouth yet again, feeling his tongue hot against mine.

Muffled sounds hummed against me, and he broke away only to kiss my neck. Whispering, he responded, “All for you.” His teeth pulled at my earlobe. “It’s all for you.”

With a faint cry, he slid his cock inside of me. Together, we moved slowly, rocking our hips in unison. My limbs curled around him, claiming him.

“I love you,” he breathed against my neck. “Esmé….”

I moaned as he thrust harder, deeper. “And I, you,” I answered, breath catching. “I love you, Alistair.” He centered himself over me, gazing down. My palms found his scruffy cheeks. “I love you,” I mouthed, breathless.

He kissed me, fierce and yearning. His thrusting intensified, signaling his need for release, but I did not want this to end.

Tightening my thighs around his waist, I pushed up and over, rolling him onto his back. Alistair landed with a grunt, and I sat up, head bumping into the tent ceiling. Alistair’s hands smoothed up my torso under the remaining bit of fabric between us, and I quickly removed it over my head. His eyes remained fixed on my chest, and his hands and fingers soon joined in the exploration. My breasts were small, and fit easily into his palms. I felt my nipples perk against the rough flesh.

I began moving against him, hips tilting and lifting as I leaned forward. Alistair let one of his hands travel down along my abdomen, appreciating each line of defined muscle, ending at the curve of my hip. His hand traveled around my side, holding me to him. He thrust himself up, slightly, meeting me halfway. As I rode him, I felt a different release building. I held his hand to my breast and braced myself against his chest. Our pace quickened. I felt my face flush. Breaths came short, broken. My thighs pushed too far and my head hit the tent again. I didn’t care. I crashed down onto Alistair again and again and continued through my second orgasm. His hands squeezed my breast and buttock as he, too, climaxed again. Our chorused moans and thrusting persisted until Alistair’s hand left my breast and clamped down onto my other side, no longer letting me move.

Together we grunted and growled, breathing in and out at length, recovering. I fell forward, letting Alistair’s cock slip from between my legs. I rolled to the man’s side, an arm and leg sprawling over his body. Sweaty and panting, we clung to one another until our breathing calmed.

“Maker, I’m hungry,” was the first thing Alistair said.

I laughed, and reached for my rucksack to look for some food. 

**Author's Note:**

> (Why are smut scenes always shorter than anticipated? bah. Oh well, fluff done. On to the drama.)


End file.
